Scrubbing Away the Past
by Eria
Summary: Short Story. Tatsumi/Hisoka. Hisoka wins a grand prize full-week stay at a spa and resort and invites Tsuzuki to come with him, but what happens when his partner is a no show and a certain secretary comes in his place?


_**Author's notes:** This was written as a Valentine's prompt. I do NOT know who I wrote this for! Tatsumi/Hisoka is so far out my comfort range, so it's funny I was able to write this at all.  
_

**Warnings:** This definitely constitutes as yaoi. Hisoka gets OOC though I don't think he strays that far.

* * *

The bus depot was crowded as usual. Announcements from a pleasant-sounding robotic voice banally listed off arrivals and departures and addressed the dangers of leaving one's belongings unattended.

Tatsumi adjusted the mid-sized luggage in his hand, while the ticket he'd picked up from the kiosk was snugly tucked in his wallet.

A flaxen-haired person stood impatiently near a column away from the provided seats.

"Good day, Kurosaki-kun."

His young coworker started, looking up. "Tatsumi-san, I didn't expect to see you here."

"Were you waiting for Tsuzuki?"

He received an annoyed snort at that query. "Yes, If he's much later, he'll miss out."

Smothering the desire to drive Tsuzuki from his hiding place, Tatsumi wished for the umpteenth time that his former lover hadn't asked this of him.

"So, what brings you here, Tatsumi-san? Going on vacation while Tsuzuki's not around the office?"

"No, I found a ticket caught in the branch of some bushes at the Ministry. I didn't see the harm in redeeming the all-expenses paid trip since someone so carelessly dropped it." At the time, he had recognized it as the grand prize from the lottery at the local grocer and knew to whom it belonged.

At hearing this, Kurosaki growled under his breath. "If he lost it, why the hell didn't he call me?"

"I offered to give it back to him, if that's any consolation," Tatsumi replied promptly.

The fair-skinned teen was already on the phone and then glared at it fiercely when it went to voicemail. "You could have told me you lost your ticket! Since Tatsumi found it, he'll go with me instead. I'll see you in a few days, Tsuzuki." With an angry jab of his finger, he hung up, his hands still shaking.

Tatsumi looked away seeing some pigeons picking at a bag with leftover food in it.

"That idiot," his coworker whispered with a heart-wrenching tone.

The stoic, unreadable secretary deliberately moved his attention elsewhere, pretending he didn't hear the slight hitches in his coworker's breathing.

* * *

Three hours later, they arrived at the very fancy Western-style resort and spa. Kurosaki had won a week's worth of vacation for two people with his good luck. Judging by the resort's outside, it was bound to be very fancy, indeed.

Tatsumi waited in the expansive lobby while Kurosaki checked them in.

After heading deeper into the building, they took an elevator up to the third floor. Kurosaki led them to the correct door and unlocked it with a swipe of his card. Their suite was larger than Tatsumi's apartment. The 'kitchenette' was quite robust and opened into a living space with a large sofa and a wide, flat-screen HD television across from it.

The floor was plush, off-white carpet and the decoration was tasteful and relaxing. The bedroom had a beautifully furnished bathroom connected to it and two singles as was requested. The two Juuocho workers set their luggage down next to the bed of their choosing.

Kurosaki opened the pamphlet he'd been given when he had checked in at the desk. "There's a massage scheduled for us is in an hour. I already told them I'm not interested in it."

It was a given why that wouldn't go over well... Accepting the pamphlet, Tatsumi looked it over. "In the meantime, would you care to join me for a walk around the premises? This talks about a fantastic garden they've maintained for scenic walks. Then, if we have time when we tire of that we can go to their teahouse."

"Sure."

The flat tone suggested that Kurosaki was still angry with his partner, and Tatsumi couldn't blame him. He had obviously planned for a romantic getaway with Tsuzuki after this stroke of luck fell in his lap.

Adjusting his glasses, Tatsumi remembered why he was there. _"Please. Do this for me. I can't, I can't give Hisoka what he needs. I'll only hurt him."_

"Tatsumi-san, did you want to do something else instead?"

He shook his head, smiling, and followed his coworker out of the room.

* * *

Relaxed from the walk, fantastic tea, and massage, Tatsumi went back to their suite wearing the thick, cotton robe with the resort's insignia sewn over the left breast.

With a book askew in limp hands, Kurosaki was in a similar robe, napping in a padded recliner that dwarfed him. His hair was still damp from a bath, and his face looked considerably younger without the tension of a frown marring it.

_"He takes a lot of naps, so don't worry about that."_

Not wishing to disturb him, Tatsumi very quietly passed him and pulled out a book to read.

It wasn't until later that afternoon that his shadow sentries alerted him to Kurosaki's presence in the bedroom.

He looked up and put the book down.

"Did you want to play karuta with me?" Kurosaki held a deck of cards between his palms.

"Certainly, Kurosaki-kun, but I will warn you that I often read the cards aloud at our New Year's parties because I'm too good at it."

A spark of competition lit up his face. "That's okay. I am too."

"But if I might suggest... It's better to play with four or more people."

"There's a salon down the hall where people socialize..." His look of uncertainty shackled his excitement.

"That sounds like an excellent idea."

As they headed out, Kurosaki's uncertainty faded when Tatsumi added, "We'll be an unbeatable pair."

* * *

They had attracted a lot of attention looking as young as they did, and yet beating even the expert grannies at it, who tutted and tittered over the attention of such good-looking gentlemen.

Tatsumi brought the game to a close as soon as he saw his coworker close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. "I apologize, ladies, but we must be going. We have an herbal mud-bath that we mustn't miss. I'm sure Kurosaki-kun wouldn't mind if you'd like to borrow his cards for a while. We're at Suite A12."

Together, the two moved to stand. Tatsumi all the while covertly supporting his coworker.

"Ohh," said Honda-san, "We understand. Those treatments are the best!" She gushed.

Her other friends grinned and nodded, some muttering an agreement.

"Don't forget to try out the different saunas!" Asano-san added in.

They bowed politely towards the elderly women and said goodbye, while the grannies who'd acted as spectators waved them off and bid them farewell.

When the noise of the salon was far behind them, Kurosaki muttered, "Let's not do that again."

"As you wish." It wasn't long before they were outside their suite, and Kurosaki swiped the card attached to his wrist with a stretchy band.

"Are we really going to get a mud bath?"

"I was, but were you?"

Kurosaki hesitated. "As long as it's a private bath, I'm game."

* * *

Long after the herbal mud bath, they supped in the communal eatery and then gone back to rest in the living area of their suite.

It was far past sunset by then, so they tucked themselves into bed and fell asleep.

Around midnight, the bizarre light emanating from Kurosaki's body woke Tatsumi. Not that he could see it where he was turned facing the wall. It was the appearance of new, distressed shadows formed by the sickly light that had woken him quickly.

Not even a whimper sounded no matter how the curves of all his major muscle groups had clenched in an instinctive fight-or-flight pattern creating different patterns of shadow.

_"He has nightmares. After you wake him up, talk to him."_

Tatsumi reached over and turned on the light next to his bed in the Western-style suite. "Kurosaki-kun?"

With a wordless gasp, he came awake, shivering. The smothered light beneath his night shift felt so evil. Pushing the blankets back, the slight figure stood up and went to the bathroom connected to the room.

There was something considerably wrong about this picture. Tatsumi removed himself from the sheets and slipped on his robe laying on the chair next to the bed. He went to his luggage, pulled out a magazine that compared price and quality of various consumer goods, and then settled into his chair.

He had finished that magazine and was reading a much longer book by the time Kurosaki appeared and slipped into his bed without a word.

After several minutes, Tatsumi placed the book down and looked gently towards the prone form, still unable to sleep due to the glowing marks. "Would you like some tea? It's decaffeinated."

His coworker sat up slowly. "...Sure."

Tatsumi went to the kitchenette brewing a cup for each of them. He returned, setting a cup for Hisoka on a coaster on the nightstand, and sat back down.

"Thank you." He sipped it slowly, not aware that shadows borne from the awful light clung to him protectively.

"You're welcome, Kurosaki-kun." The older man set his tea down and crossed his fingers together after a moment of thought. "Would you consider me as someone trustworthy?"

"...Of course, Tatsumi-san. I've never had any reason to doubt you."

"I apologize if this is too forward..." Tatsumi brought his hands up and rested his elbows on the armrests. "However... were you cursed before you died?"

"I... yes." Those delicate hands trembled as they unconsciously ran over his arms, and he looked down at his chest, as if to check for an indicator that Tatsumi could have seen. "...How did you know?"

With the barest flick of his finger, Tatsumi pointed towards the coalesced shadow he'd pooled at the foot of his bed. "Unusual shadows were spawning."

Without the shadows wrapping him, Kurosaki's grip on his arms tightened as he shivered. Perhaps he missed the heavy comfort they could bring.

So, Tatsumi released them and they went back to their seamless perch upon his coworker, who relaxed in response. Tatsumi wondered... no, that'd be too forward.

"Muraki cursed me. That's how he got involved with Tsuzuki and caused all those problems."

He quietly listened.

"Why doesn't he trust me to know what I want?" The voice was haunted.

"You know how stubborn the elderly are. He's no different."

"How many years will it take before he realizes that just because I was-" He fell suddenly silent, and the shadows tightened around him responding to the sudden growth in lumens of the light.

Tatsumi tilted his head curiously.

"It's nothing."

"If that was true," Tatsumi asked with a measured tone, "then why do you look upset?"

"My body was utterly defiled by Muraki to lay the curse. It's why -" Kurosaki broke off as his breath caught, "why Tsuzuki insists on protecting me from further defilement by restraining himself." His voice was bitter and angry with his situation.

"I see." Tatsumi wanted to do something for him, but what could he do? Tsuzuki had apparently rejected Kurosaki's attempts for a closer relationship. "Then I should be fully honest with you. When I confronted Tsuzuki about the ticket, he asked me to go with you." He paused seeing the look of shock and hurt on his coworker's face. "I'm sorry. I had hoped that things would work themselves out, but now," he stood up. "I see that I need to go knock some sense into Tsuzuki myself."

"It won't work."

"I'll try it for myself."

A hand grabbed his. "Please listen to me. Over and over again, I've tried and failed. He won't touch me because I..." A steely look settled on his face as the slight figure withdrew his hand, "because I was raped."

"Then when you said defiled..." Tatsumi gazed down at the back of his robe. Removing his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to calm himself as the dark, dangerous anger threatened to remove his control of shadow.

"Tatsumi-san?" He opened his eyes to see that Kurosaki had taken several steps forward. A bewildered look was on his face as he continued to slowly shuffle forward like a puppet led by strings.

Tatsumi brought an arm up to hold him as his other hand collected the ever-abundant shadows spawning like pus at a festering wound. "You may be feeling the pull of my Shadow Magic. My apologies, Kurosaki-kun. Once I've calmed down, you should be free."

"..." A faint blush had crossed across Kurosaki's face as his eyes looked away.

And then he'd regained control of the shadows, and Kurosaki seemed a little reluctant to pull away. They both settled down in their beds, and Tatsumi clicked the light off.

Even as he drifted to sleep, he remembered how much Kurosaki relaxed by the touch of his magic.

* * *

The next day, they soaked together in the private baths, though Kurosaki always carried a hand towel in front of him modestly. Tatsumi could see why he hadn't joined the rest of his coworkers in the onsen all those months ago. At least with the mudbath, Kurosaki could cover himself up to his neck in thick mud.

At random, the cursemarks would flicker to life showing very distinct red-lines and then they'd disappear as if they never were. It'd bound to attract attention to the empath.

It being a private bath, there wasn't much room in the jacuzzi, but they managed to sit without touching their knees together. Kurosaki had gazed at the curious openings along the walls inside of it.

Tatsumi tapped a setting and water billowed out from the jets at his back. So startled by that, Kurosaki jerked upright. It was perhaps cruel of Tatsumi not to have warned him.

Kurosaki sent him a glare and grumbled over the noise of the jets, "Could have said something."

Tatsumi put his arms up along the sides and leaned his head back onto the lip of the jacuzzi with a small smile on his face.

When he looked back at Kurosaki, he was completely relaxed against the jets with his wet hand towel covering his face.

_If he wasn't so psychically sensitive_, Tatsumi mused, _he'd enjoy a good rub down._

Taking his fogged glasses off, he leaned back and found himself thinking about the situation in which he'd found himself. Tatsumi had thought he'd only be covering for Tsuzuki, like he had covered for Kurosaki in Kyoto after Muraki's griffins attacked the two Kyushu partners.

_"Tatsumi, you're better at silence than I am. Sometimes, that's all Hisoka wants."_

Now it no longer seemed simple. It had been a little odd when Tsuzuki gave him all that advice all of a sudden. In the short time he spent here however, it seemed as if Tsuzuki were pushing him towards Kurosaki, just like Tatsumi had encouraged Kurosaki towards Tsuzuki.

"What are you thinking about?"

Lifting his head, Tatsumi blinked once at Hisoka's blurry face. "Excuse me?"

"I can't tell. You've always been a bit of a mystery to me."

So, Kurosaki was used to being able to read people, yet wasn't able to read him so well. "Is it really that important to you?"

"I guess not."

"Then why ask?"

"Maybe I'm curious to know who you really are."

Tatsumi thought a moment before answering. "Kurosaki-kun, a person doesn't normally ask to find out how a person truly is. One observes, takes note of differences between word and action, and then concludes on their own."

"That doesn't guarantee that you know a person."

"It's an imperfect method, but then not everyone is born with your gift. Is your completely empathy ineffective on me?"

"No." A wet towel flopped onto his face. "If I stay in here much longer, I'll get pruney." There was a loud splash of water and Kurosaki dripped his way to the towel rack.

Tatsumi slowly pulled the small towel off of his face at the blurry, pale form.

A white robe was pulled out and tightened around the form. "Don't stay in there too long. You'll miss dinner."

The door swung shut behind his suddenly flirtatious coworker.

* * *

The dinner they shared was a private affair, in their suite. The personal flavor of it made Tatsumi a little uneasy.

Kurosaki had prepared a meal for him.

They sat down in silence, and Kurosaki handed Tatsumi a bowl of rice he'd scooped out of the rice cooker ad made one for himself.

"Itadakimasu," they both said.

The thinly sliced sashimi glistened on his plate with a dab of homemade wasabi and heap of sliced pickled ginger. Tatsumi tried the first, and the fish melted in his mouth he scooped a pat of rice into his mouth. Red snapper. "Delicious. Did you pick this yourself?" He asked as he poured a little soy sauce in a small bowl and mixed the wasabi into it.

"I made a special order with the kitchen for their freshest catch."

"So, you prepared it yourself?" Tatsumi dipped the slice in his soy sauce concoction and savored each bite, before eating some sticky rice.

"Yes, I volunteer at a local restaurant on my off-days. The owner taught me the basics."

"You could open your own shop, if you so desired."

An unhappy look flashed over Kurosaki's face as he swallowed down a chewed slice of ginger. "I learned to cut expenses."

It was for Tsuzuki. Tatsumi realized. Kurosaki had been honing his cooking skills, and anyone who ate Tsuzuki's home-cooking would understand why.

They ate quietly, and soon they were clearing their plates and bowls from the table.

His coworker didn't look at him as he turned on the water to wash the dishes. The shoulders were small beneath the shaggy, fine blond hair.

"Kurosaki-kun, should I dry?" Tatsumi picked up a dish towel awaiting the first dish.

"Everyone else calls me Hisoka. You can call me that too," Kurosaki said softly, head bent forward as he rinsed the dishes he'd just washed.

"Hisoka-kun," Tatsumi said awkwardly as he picked up a bowl Kurosaki had set in the dish drainer. It seemed vulgar somehow now that they were sharing a room, almost illicit.

He put the bowl away, but when he turned to reach for another dish Kurosaki stood in front of Tatsumi, gently reaching and then holding the collar of his robe before sliding nimble fingers down suggestively. "May I call you Seichiirou-san?"

First-name basis. He hadn't been on those terms in a long time, and his world spun as his cheeks heated and his body swelled in anticipation. The hand slipped from his robe as Kurosaki retreated to the living room, leaving Tatsumi to finish drying dishes. The secretary's mouth was dry, and with clumsy fingers he completed his task, all while he wondered if that reaction was what Kurosaki intended.

Leaving the kitchen, he observed just the topmost tuft of blond hair where Kurosaki sat on the over-plush, large couch while he checked the weather channel.

"Kurosaki-kun, we need to talk." Tatsumi came around the luxurious couch that could seat five people with ease.

"Tatsumi-san, I'm sorry." Kurosaki had his clasped hands tightly over a pillow in his lap.

With a light sigh, Tatsumi sat beside him. "It's not as if I didn't enjoy it, Hisoka-kun. It was unexpected."

Tatsumi saw the lump in Kurosaki's throat bob up and down when he swallowed. "Then, would it be improper to ask you out on a date, Tatsumi-san?"

Bending close to his ear, Tatsumi smiled and whispered softly, "Couldn't we count the dinner as a date?"

Kurosaki shivered as his ear turned bright pink. "I was a lousy conversationalist. I want a do over." Turning his head, Kurosaki finally noticed that Tatsumi was hovering close to him.

"On the contrary, I thought it was a splendid date with great food."

Suddenly closing the gap between them, Kurosaki kissed him chastely on the lips, but before he could pull away Tatsumi wrapped a hand around the nap of his neck and thumbed up and down. "Is something wrong, Hisoka-kun?"

Pulling the pillow away, Kurosaki revealed he was more than a little interested in continuing. "Before we... I don't think I could..."

A slow smile widened on Tatsumi's face. "Oh, there are other options that I think you might find more enjoyable."

Kurosaki's hands grabbed his shoulders, and his date pushed forward kissing him with a passion that belied his initial timidity. Tatsumi caught that aimless passion and molded it, easing the hands to his chest before picking Kurosaki up. Thighs tightened at his waist, and Tatsumi stumbled forward, holding himself up with the couch, while Kurosaki's lips worked at his neck.

Tatsumi groaned as he grew much harder. Unable to move much farther, he let his shadows swallow them up and spit them back out next to the bed. Kurosaki hardly noticed as his hands undid the belt at Tatsumi's waist and wiggled his fingers under the robe to touch his bared skin.

When those questing fingers darted downward, Tatsumi took up those delicate wrists and kissed them lightly at the pulse. "Patience, Hisoka-kun." He pressed them out from each side like wings. "Should you try that again, I'll use shade magic to restrain you."

Kurosaki's lips were reddened and there was high color in his cheeks, but he stayed put. "So, what are these other options?"

"Frotting, mutual masturbation, fellatio, among other things."

Sitting up, Hisoka's robe was askew on his shoulders. "There's lube and condoms in my bag."

Tatsumi gave him a curious look.

"I was hoping Tsuzuki... Never mind." He looked away, self-consciously. "It's in the right outer pocket."

Bending over the edge of the bed, Tatsumi unzipped the pocket and retrieved the items, just as a hand snaked around his full erection and pumped once.

Commanding the shadows that already clung to Kurosaki wherever he went, Kurosaki found himself pinned in a facedown position.

"Wh-what?" His voice tremulously ventured.

"Shade magic," Tatsumi said matter-of-factly, while he opened a pack and rolled the condom down over his engorged shaft.

The whimper had Tatsumi concerned though, so he gestured for the shadows to roll Kurosaki over. His robes were pushed up showing off his own erection. "Are you okay, Hisoka-kun?"

"I-I don't like this."

Dismissing the shadows, Tatsumi leaned over him in concern, placing a half-opened condom packet in his hand. "Is that better?"

Nodding, Kurosaki pulled out the circle of condom and put it on as well.

Then since they were side-by-side, the same hand slipped around Tatsumi's erection and pumped over the pre-lubricated rubber. Tatsumi caught the hand and doused it with water-based lubricant.

Then he pushed Kurosaki back and held himself above the wide green eyes. "Keep your hand still, Hisoka-kun." Tatsumi pulled his hips back and thrust back into the tight, warm circle, relishing the motion. He panted quietly as he focused on that pleasure. Soon his scrotum was slapping against Kurosaki's palm as he thrust harder and harder, and he gazed down through his glasses at the glazed look in Kurosaki's eyes. And then he crested with a grunt, shuddering as he came. Kurosaki followed, crying out against him, hand tightening around him before he relaxed in a heap of limbs.

Tatsumi rolled to his side, watching Kurosaki, as he caught his breath.

His eyes rolled open, blinking, and then he took a deep breath as he fingered the pouch of semen at the tip of Tatsumi's condom. "Can we do that again?"

* * *

After that week of sexual bliss, Tatsumi and Kurosaki went back to work.

They were stoic as ever, but whenever Kurosaki was stuck late at night finishing paperwork for Tsuzuki Tatsumi would visit and make him love doing all that extra work.

**End.**


End file.
